


Pieces

by Tay (erentitanjaeger)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fate/Zero - Freeform, M/M, Make Outs, Mentions of Sex, except me, fate au, fate/stay night - Freeform, i asked for this, iwaoi - Freeform, literally no one asked for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 10:47:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6048634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erentitanjaeger/pseuds/Tay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa expected more of a challenge.  Iwaizumi expected to win indefinitely.  They both expected more from each other.  They both got exactly what they asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> not really sure if this makes sense to those who aren't familiar with the fate universe but essentially iwaizumi is a mage. he summoned oikawa to fight for him. if they win they get a big cup that grants them one wish. like a genie lamp. only bad. dont drink from foreign cups kids.

The double doors sweep open, slamming against the wall.  Books from the wall-to-wall shelves tumble down with the force.  Oikawa couldn’t care less about that though, as he strides into the office, a spring in his step, laughter and joy bubbling in his chest. 

Iwaizumi follows closely behind, waving his hand so the office doors slam shut again.  He knows if his father were still here, he’d be berated for using them so roughly, saying wood such as fine as that demanded respect, or to not be lazy and use his magic for such meaningless tasks.  Iwaizumi couldn’t bring himself to care at all, not after the events that had transpired tonight.

“Did you expect it to go so well, Hajime?” Oikawa calls with glee.  He’s sort of dancing now, the armour around his ankles clanking as he takes one long step after the other. 

“You wear arrogance as if it’s going out of style, yet you ask if I expected any flaws from the great king, Oikawa Tooru?” Iwaizumi is quick to reply.  “You’ve lost your touch.”

Oikawa stops, facing Iwaizumi, lifting one, long, perfect eyebrow at him, but the smile never leaves his features.

Revelling in Oikawa’s good mood, Iwaizumi watches his movements and delights in the way Oikawa’s bare chest seems to glow in the moonlight more so than any other night.  Nights they had spent discussing strategies, handling spell books, dancing around each other’s bodies, both acting as though that static hadn’t always been between them.

Oikawa falls onto the office’s couch, slumping into the cushions with that same, sadistic smile still on his face.  He laughs again, loud and carefree.  Iwaizumi watches him, wondering when the last time this king might have smiled like that. 

“To be honest, I expected more of Lancer: one of the three knight classes!” Oikawa’s words are full of confidence.  “And yet he fell so easily!”

He smacks the back of the couch with an armour clad fist, his boisterous laughter filling the room and Iwaizumi continues to watch his actions, though not without a smile on his face too.

“You say all this like our victory wasn’t assured from the start,” Iwaizumi states.  “It’s not as if his master knew what he was doing, like he could make our fight difficult at all.”

Oikawa lets out a guffaw, his eyes set on Iwaizumi now.

“Oh please, I knew it wouldn’t be hard to take down that catty bastard,” Oikawa waves a hand at Iwaizumi. “Though his servant, at least, I expected to be some sort of challenge.  It’s a wonder he never saw that last sword coming.”

“Maybe his glasses needed a new prescription,” Iwaizumi jests and Oikawa rewards him with a satisfied smirk.  “How ‘bout a drink?  We took another step closer towards our goal tonight!  I think we both deserve to drink like kings.” 

Oikawa tips his head, not to consider the idea, knowing Iwaizumi will assume he agrees, but rather deciding to consider Iwaizumi’s demeanour, and what it might mean.

Oikawa studies Iwaizumi carefully.  Watches as he walks over to the cart of alcohol situated near his father’s desk.  Watches as he slowly pours himself a scotch.  Watches as he puts the glass to his lips, drinks almost carefully, as if he knows his actions are now under scrutiny; because they are.

Both men can feel the aura of the room shift dramatically.

“Hajime, you’ve given me many surprises since entering this new world, one of the most surprising, however, is your conviction for this contest.”

Iwaizumi slowly turns his head, trying to give as little of his attention to Oikawa as possible, trying to keep up this pretence that he doesn’t care, that he’s never cared.

“How so?” he simply asks.

Oikawa leans forward and plucks a chess piece from the board in front of him.  It’s the black king.  Iwaizumi has seen him study it many times, nimble fingers turning the piece over and over again, as if the answer to this entire ordeal is hidden within its black paint.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Oikawa starts, “I’m not saying how you’ve changed your mind is a bad thing.  Hell; we men are more than fit to change our minds as we please.”

At this, Iwaizumi utterly fails in keeping his curiosity hidden, swinging his entire body around to face Oikawa.

“What do you mean ‘changed my mind’?  Changed my mind about what?”

Oikawa laughs.

“Why, the Holy Grail War, of course.”

Oikawa doesn’t miss how Iwaizumi’s fingers twitch against his glass, gripping it tighter without any need to.

“You wanna run that by me again?” Iwaizumi has gone on the defensive, as he has so often before.  Oikawa finds Iwaizumi’s at his most defensive when he’s at his most vulnerable, a skill brought on only by generations before him being threatened day in and day out, heightened instincts now given to each new generation following.

Oikawa takes his eyes off the chess piece, looking at Iwaizumi instead, and Iwaizumi notices that even though the moonlight is hitting his eyes directly, they look almost red under the light.

“’I’m only fighting because it’s what’s expected of me’,” Oikawa recites, watching Iwaizumi’s eyes widen as the memory hits him.  “’When all this is over, all I want is my family name’s respect back where it belongs; at the top.’  ‘This contract is binding so long as we share the same goal, though for different reasons.’  All your exact words, I believe, Iwaizumi Hajime.”

Iwaizumi flinches.

“What of it?” Iwaizumi has put his drink down now, leaning against the desk, grasping it firmly so his knuckles go white.  He doesn’t need to give Oikawa a reason to see how much he is shaking.

Oikawa glances back down to the chess piece, holding it up higher so the moonlight is reflected off its surface, not really doing anything to darken its colour.

“I’m just curious, as to when you decided that none of that no longer matters to you.”

Oikawa doesn’t need to look up to know Iwaizumi’s face is painted with shock, though trying very hard to mask it behind simple irritation; his default.

“Of course it matters!” Iwaizumi pushes off from the desk, striding across the room towards Oikawa.  “What makes you think it doesn’t?”

Oikawa takes his time to answer, putting the chess piece down again, though in the middle of the board.  Now it’s flanked on either end by both dark and light armies, neither fighting for or against the figure in the middle.

 “ _’Our_ victory.’ ‘ _Our_ fight.’ ‘Another step closer towards _our_ goal.’  When did ‘you’ and ‘I’ become a ‘we’, Hajime?”

“Don’t be stupid!  We’ve always been a team!”

“Yes, but only out of necessity.  Now, I get the feeling this comradery is born more out of desire.”

Oikawa looks up into Iwaizumi’s eyes, only slightly stunned to see fear embedded in his expression.

“What are you accusing me of?” Iwaizumi stands firm, unwavering. 

At least he still has that going for him, Oikawa thinks.  He looks to the chess pieces again as he speaks.

“That now you have a completely different reason for winning this war.  That your reason for winning has changed to match mine.  Not that I’m complaining.” Oikawa picks up another chess piece, the knight that had been flanking the king’s right side, letting it leap over the other pieces and land in the space next to the black king he had placed before.   “In the end, won’t this only make it easier for me?”

Iwaizumi looks at Oikawa with a mix of fear and irritation.

“You’re saying I want the Grail to make you king?  That I’ve forgotten about what trash the Iwaizumi name has become?  That I’m just going to side step my final goal in favour of making your wish come true?”

Oikawa stands at this, fixing Iwaizumi with a look.  It’s a look Iwaizumi can’t read, a look he fears.  One of contempt, though he feels it’s not aimed at him.

“But Hajime, isn’t our goals now one in the same?”

Iwaizumi doesn’t give him the satisfaction of even blinking this time.

“Returning me to my thrown means having won the Grail, that’s a given,” Oikawa continues.  “But you’ve come to the conclusion that if you stay by my side, that if we continue as we have, even after all is said and done, the illustrious name of Iwaizumi will return to its former glory, with or without the Grail’s help.  That now concentrating on the one goal is far easier and simpler than concentrating on two, and trying to bind them together, even if it is only a means to an end.”

Iwaizumi has forgone his defensive measures, simply letting his face fall at the realisation that he’s been figured out. 

Oikawa only chuckles, walking around the table in front of him, his leg armour slightly jostling it as he does.  The knight piece standing in the middle of the board goes tumbling down, rolling crookedly for a moment before falling off the board completely.  Oikawa approaches Iwaizumi from behind, looping his arms around Iwaizumi’s waist, sitting his chin on his shoulder.  He lets his breath tickle Iwaizumi’s ear with his next words.

“Are you going to stay with me after the Holy Grail War, Hajime?”

Iwaizumi flinches as he snaps out of his trance, turning in Oikawa’s arms.  He fixes him with his own look, steady and sure, no longer afraid.  Oikawa recognises that look all too well; the look of a man with nothing to lose, and everything to gain.  Oikawa grins.

Finally, Iwaizumi’s potential has been breached, and the real companionship that binds them as Master and Servant can begin.

“I am going to stay with you,” Iwaizumi announces, trapping Oikawa’s face in his rough hands, fingers sliding into brown locks, twisting a curl around his ring finger.  “You will make the Iwaizumi name what it once was.”

Oikawa’s grin only widens, leaning forward so their lips barely touch, though their breath is now shared.

“Is that an order from my master?” Oikawa breathes, his voice giddy with anticipation.

“Don’t make me use a command seal,” Iwaizumi answers, and kisses him full force.

It doesn’t take either of them long before their tongues touch, sliding against each other, lips letting wet sounds echo throughout the dark, empty room.  Oikawa can taste the scotch on Iwaizumi’s tongue, laps at it, never having tasted a victory drink as sweet as it before.  Iwaizumi tilts his head, craving more, sighing when he gets it.  Oikawa lets his arms ensnare Iwaizumi’s waist even tighter.  He’s sure the crest of his armour is digging into Iwaizumi’s back, but if it bothers him, he doesn’t say. 

Iwaizumi’s arms go around Oikawa’s neck in response, enjoying his bare shoulders all over again, the warmth of his chest seeping through Iwaizumi’s shirt, making him whine into the kiss.  He can’t even be embarrassed, not when Oikawa starts nibbling at his bottom lip like that, sucking it into his mouth, their breaths hot on both their faces.

When they part there’s a line of spit between them, and though normally Iwaizumi would be disgusted by the desperation he had previously shown, right now he can’t fathom wanting to hide anything from the man in front of him; even his own shame.

“I think we should go, uh, finish this discussion in the bedroom,” Iwaizumi pants, sliding out of Oikawa’s grasp only slightly, more so that he can start walking backwards out of the office.  Oikawa follows with even steps.

“A wise idea, Hajime.  I’ve been looking forward to seeing you on your knees for me once again.”

Iwaizumi smirks at Oikawa, pulling him closer to give him another long, hot, powerful kiss, reminding Oikawa that he won’t so easily be bossed around.  He pulls back, looking Oikawa dead in the eyes as speaks.

“Don’t forget your place, Archer class servant, Oikawa Tooru.”


End file.
